


Let the Choir Bells Sing

by Pun



Category: Husbands (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pun/pseuds/Pun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheeks and Brady get snowed in, wind up married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Choir Bells Sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breeanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeanna/gifts).



> This is set in the same universe as the Husbands series, where same-sex marriage is legalized throughout the United States c. late 2011. 
> 
> Thanks go to my beta.
> 
> Happy Yuletide, Breeanna!

“And it doesn’t show signs of stopping, folks!” the forecaster said as the snow blew all around him more horizontally than vertically. He was wearing a bright blue parka that Cheeks would think even a straight man who did weather for WKRBumblefuck would be ashamed to be caught dead in, but live and learn. 

“I’m sorry, Cheeks,” Brady said, making puppy dog eyes at him. “Maybe it will let up in time for us to ski tomorrow?” His voice went up on the end like he was trying to wheedle the weather gods. 

“We’ll have over two feet by morning, and that’s only the beginning,” the television guy said, as if in answer to Brady’s question.

“So basically, you’ve dragged me up to the middle of nowhere to sit inside this room for three straight days.” Cheeks looked around him. Admittedly the room was acceptably luxurious. The bed was a king-sized four poster draped in elegant blue and white linens. There was a real fireplace with a neat stack of uniform logs piled up in a polished brass basket, and the bathroom had an enormous Jacuzzi tub that could easily fit both of them. If it weren’t for Cheeks’ fundamental objection to spending more than twenty-four hours straight cooped up in one place, he might admit that this was a pretty decent place to be stuck.

“I hope you’re with someone you like because nobody is going anywhere for _days_ ,” the weather guy said just before Cheeks stabbed the off button on the remote. Cheeks’ next move was clear. He would throw an epic hissy fit, followed by pouting, thereby extracting promises of extravagant make-up gifts with bonus blowjobs. 

He tossed the television remote down on the bed, inhaled deeply, and opened his mouth just as Brady looked down at his hands and said softly, “I am with someone I like.” When he raised his eyes to look at Cheeks they were bright and hopeful. 

“Or we could just go ahead and skip straight to the blowjobs,” Cheeks said.

“Wha—“ Brady began, but he was cut off by Cheeks’ tongue in his mouth. 

*

The snow seemed to be coming down even harder when they woke up, if that were possible. 

They’d fed each other from the breakfast trays that had been delivered to their room, and then Brady had enjoyed the view of Cheeks’ ass as he did a surprisingly competent job of building a fire.

“Cheeks, were you a Boy Scout?” Brady asked teasingly, stretching his toes out toward the delicious warmth of the flames leaping in the grate.

Cheeks looked at him from the corner of his eye. “What do you think?”

“I’ll bet you looked great in the uniform,” Brady said. 

Cheeks’ eyes widened for a second, like that hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He turned away to poke at the fire some more. They’d been dating for six weeks, but Brady barely even knew where Cheeks had grown up—somewhere in the South—or how many siblings he had, or any of the other details that should have been basic, first-date conversation. 

“Did you make it to Eagle Scout?” Brady pressed.

“Ha! I dropped out once I found out there was no merit badge for cock sucking,” Cheeks said. He looked back at Brady with a saucy smile, but for a second it seemed to falter. 

There was a story there, but Brady decided to let it go. “You certainly deserve one,” he said, going along with the flirtation. There was so much more he wanted to know about Cheeks, but there would be time. “How about knot-tying? How’d you do at that?” He stretched his arms up above his head, laying one wrist atop the other just in case he’d been too subtle. 

Cheeks’ eyes lit up with a lascivious gleam. He came and lay down on top of Brady, rocking his hips down and pressing one hand against Brady’s wrists. 

Brady shivered as Cheeks licked a line up his neck and bit at his earlobe. “Why don’t I show you?” Cheeks offered, low and teasing.

“Yes!” Brady said. He was instantly hard and wanting.

Cheeks popped up and went to his suitcase. “Don’t move,” he said, a note of command in his voice.

Brady nodded. He didn’t want to.

*

Cheeks still had Brady tied up when his phone went off, Britney encouraging him to go all the way, take out his freak tonight. He started thrusting in time to the beat, adding a little hip twist that made Brady cry out at a higher pitch.

His new cashmere ski socks were going to be ruined, but that was a small price to pay for having Brady spread-eagled beneath him, the muscles of his back flexing against the restraints. 

Cheeks had originally only gone out with Brady for exactly this moment—the surge of heat and power he got from having this all-American jock wet dream under him, taking it. 

Usually the appeal of this type of fuck wore off quickly, but after the first couple of weeks, Cheeks had noticed that Brady was not as dumb as he looked and was actually pretty sweet. 

Cheeks leaned forward and bit the junction of Brady’s neck and shoulder, but then he soothed the spot with his tongue and ran his hand gently down the vulnerable knobs of Brady’s spine. 

Brady kept moaning steadily beneath him. Pushing back to welcome Cheeks’ thrusts as much as the restraints allowed. 

Cheeks let the heat build, moving even faster until he was carried over the edge and crying out, coming hot and hard inside of Brady. 

He collapsed against Brady’s back, limp with satisfaction, but he could feel Brady still squirming beneath him, helpless to do anything but rub his cock against the bed to get friction. 

Cheeks could leave him like this. Make him wait. Make him beg.

“Cheeks. Cheeks, you’re amazing.” Brady said, voice ragged.

Cheeks pulled out carefully, shushing Brady’s whimper, and untied him. Brady rolled onto his back. He looked like a pornographic statue with his high cheekbones, perfect six-pack abs and long, flushed cock. 

Cheeks bit his way down Brady’s torso and then took him deep with one smooth swallow. He barely had time to use any suction before Brady was arching up from the bed and coming, yelling Cheeks’ name.

He had just gotten up to dispose of the condom when his phone rang again. Britney again, which was Haley’s ring.

Cheeks did the right thing and hit ignore, but he hadn’t so much as spooned up behind Brady when Haley called again. 

“I guess you’d better answer it,” Brady said with a sigh.

“Cheeks! O-M-F-G! Isn’t it amazing?!” Haley shrieked in his ear. “I can’t believe it. You must be so excited! I’m with Blue. We’re coming to pick you up, and then we’re all going to Vegas to celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?” Cheeks asked. Not that he was ever against a celebration in Vegas.

“O-M-G, Cheeks! W-H-H-Y-B? Marriage equality! It’s on every single news station everywhere!”

“Marriage equality?”

“Yes! Gay marriage! It’s totally legal now!” 

“Haley, are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m drunk. But it’s totally true, Cheeks, I swear!” 

“Brady, put on the television,” Cheeks said, hitting him excitedly on the leg.

The television confirmed that Haley had not lost her mind. 

“We’ll be there in an hour. Vegas, wooo!” Haley said. 

“I can’t,” Cheeks said, deflating a little from the euphoria of this historic and unprecedented gay rights victory. “The romantic ski getaway, remember?”

“Bummer.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just have a celebration here.” Cheeks went to the minibar. “Hmmm, Absolut, Jameson, ooh, Patron!”

“It’s 10:30am,” Brady said.

“Cheeks gestures at massive blizzard outside window.” Cheeks said, motioning broadly with his right hand. The wind helpfully howled as if on cue.

“Oh, come on, marriage equality equals scotchaclock!” Haley added. 

Brady gave the phone a dirty look. 

“You know what, we have to go. Have fun in Vegas. Don’t marry anyone I wouldn’t marry!” Cheeks said.

Haley snorted. “As if! Okay, love you, bye!!” 

Cheeks tossed his phone down on the bed. “Fuck it. I’m opening the Patron,” he said.

Brady stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You know, shots of Patron wasn’t exactly what I had pictured for our romantic weekend. What if we ask them to make us some hot chocolate, and then we curl up by the fire?” Brady said, coming and wrapping his arms around Cheeks from behind. “I think I saw a Scrabble board in the living room.” 

Cheeks broke out of Brady’s hold and turned so that they were facing each other. “We are missing the party of the century in Vegas, and you are suggesting that we distract ourselves from this fact with board games?”

“Okay, I see your point,” Brady said. “How about I order us a bottle of champagne?” 

“I prefer prosecco,” Cheeks said.

*

They wound up drinking the Patron. After the prosecco, but before the Absolut and the Jameson. 

Cheeks was sprawled across the width of the bed with his head dangling off the edge. Brady was on the floor with his back against the nightstand. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten there, but he liked the way the carpet felt plush and soft when he stroked it with his fingers. He thought maybe he’d try doing it with his face.

“Brady, I am drunk,” Cheeks said. “Like, really drunk. The room is spinning. And upside down. Oh my god, why is the room upside down?” He asked, a note of alarm creeping into his voice. 

“Cheeks, it’s okay,” Brady said. Managing to crawl the couple feet to the bed, he put a hand on Cheeks’ shoulder and helped him to sit up. 

“Oh. It’s right side up now. Brady, you fixed it.” Cheeks gave him a radiant smile that made Brady’s chest and stomach feel like he’d just done another shot of whiskey. 

“I can’t believe we can get married now.”

“We can,” Brady agreed. “We totally should.” Brady brought his fist down against his palm which caused him to overbalance a little to the left. He put his hand on Cheeks’ shoulder to steady himself and leaned in really close so he could look in Cheeks’ eyes. “We should totally get married right now.”

“Yeah.” Cheeks nodded his head. “We’re gonna get married, and anyone who doesn’t like it can suck it!” 

“No, you can suck it,” Brady said, smiling at the memory of Cheeks doing just that earlier.

“No, _you_ can suck it,” Cheeks said. 

They went back and forth a few times, and then Brady kissed Cheeks to make him stop saying “suck it.” There was a lot spit, and Cheeks tasted like the craziest mixed drink ever concocted.

“I’m ordering more champagne,” Brady said.

“Prosecco,” Cheeks corrected. “I pref—prefer pro—pos--,” he waved his hand, “you know, the other one.”

*

It took Cheeks awhile to figure out that the banging was coming from the door to their room and not the inside of his head. 

His attempts to prod Brady into answering the knock were only met with incoherent moans, so he dragged himself up and stumbled to the door.

The innkeeper was there, looking absurdly cheery for whatever ridiculous hour of the morning it was.

“Hello there,” he said. “Just wanted to let you boys know that Cal Hopkin is here.” He said it like Cheeks should know who that was, but the name meant nothing to him.

“Okay, that’s great. Thanks,” Cheeks said, wanting to end the conversation and go back to bed.

But the innkeeper didn’t move out of the doorway. “Cal Hopkin is the magistrate,” he said. 

“Okay?” Cheeks said, now even less sure why he’d care.

“I’m sorry it took so long, but he didn’t want to ski in the dark. He’s awful excited, though, to be performing the first marriage here in New Hampshire under the new law. I can only imagine how happy you must be, finally getting to marry the person you love.” 

Cheeks was in the unusual position of not being able to think of a retort. 

The innkeeper filled the silence saying, “He’s downstairs and ready to do the ceremony whenever you are. Not that I’m one to tell anyone what to do, but you might want to put some pants on first.” Cheeks followed his eyes downward. Oh. That was why the room felt so drafty. 

*

“And so it turns out Mr. Hopkin here is a huge Dodgers fan,” Brady said with the forced smile of the fan encounter. 

“Oh, please call me Cal. But yes, even after everything, I still love the Dodgers,” he said, nodding. Cal looked to be about seventy-five with weathered skin the color of an acorn shell and gray, curly hair. 

“And he skied five miles through the blizzard to get here,” Brady added, widening his eyes at Cheeks unsubtly. 

“Oh, that’s a pretty normal distance for me,” Cal said. “A bit more challenging in the blizzard, mind you, but I enjoyed it.”

Cheeks had sent Brady down ahead of him to figure out the best way to call this whole thing off, but clearly Brady had not made any progress. 

“Sweetheart, may I speak with you privately a moment,” Cheeks said. 

“Of course, darling,” Braday said, following Cheeks into the next room.

“You were supposed to tell him the wedding was canceled,” Cheeks hissed. 

“Five miles. Through the snow, Cheeks. And now I have to tell him it was all for nothing?”

“He said he enjoyed it!”

“Oh god, what if he falls into a snow drift and dies on the way home?”

“’Beloved Local Grandpa Killed By Gay Hoax!’” Cheeks wrinkled his nose. “That does sound bad.” 

“We’d have blood on our hands!”

Cheeks looked down at his well-manicured fingers. “I guess a diamond would look better.”

“It would,” Brady said.

“I mean, if we were going to get married, I would require some serious ice.” 

“The size of a baseball,” Brady agreed readily. 

“But we can’t get married. Just to make some random old man happy. That would be crazy!” 

“Okay. You’re going to have to tell him we changed our minds.” 

“I’m not going to tell him! You tell him. He’ll take it better coming from you, the big baseball star.” 

“We’ll tell him together,” Brady said, taking Cheeks by the hand. 

They walked back into the room where Cal and the innkeeper were waiting expectantly.

“Sir, it was very kind of you to come all this way in the storm. I don’t know how we can thank you enough,” Brady said.

“Seeing your faces is all the thanks I need. I can relate to how hard it can be when you don’t conform to our society’s expectations. He gestured to his own face and said, “My mother was white and my father was black. It wasn’t so easy for them to get married either.”

“Um, right. About that.” Brady paused to take a deep breath.

Cheeks jumped in saying, “That’s why it’s such an honor for us to have you performing our wedding ceremony.”

“Wait. What?” Brady said, turning to look at Cheeks. “Really?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Cheeks said.

“You’re sure?” The smile on Brady’s face was devastatingly hopeful.

“Gosh, honey, you act as if this was all some harebrained scheme cooked up while we were in a drunken stupor from which we’re only just now emerging,” Cheeks said.

“Right. Which of course it isn’t,” Brady said, and then laughed nervously looking not at all convincing. Brady had no power of dissembling. Good thing he was marrying an actor. 

The vows were the same as all the straight weddings he’d been to. They promised to love, protect and remain faithful to each other until death did them part, and then Cal asked him if he took Brady as his lawfully wedded husband. 

“I do,” Cheeks said.

The whole thing was crazy, and Cheeks still wasn’t even quite sure how they’d ended up here, but his chest filled with pride, and some other feeling he wasn’t quite ready to put a name to as the magistrate joined their hands together and said, “I now pronounce you husbands.”


End file.
